


Stupid Little Bird

by dispatch



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gender Identity, M/M, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1509740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dispatch/pseuds/dispatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason sometimes thinks that his life is like one of those old noir films where everything is in black and white. The streets are dark and the rain makes the lamp light reflect like a halo. But instead of some down on his luck detective, there’s just Jason. And there is a tragically beautiful girl, kind of; but mostly it’s Tim and the way he can look at you and know everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Little Bird

Jason sometimes thinks that his life is like one of those old noir films where everything is in black and white. The streets are dark and the rain makes the lamp light reflect like a halo. But instead of some down on his luck detective, there’s just Jason. And there is a tragically beautiful girl, kind of; but mostly it’s Tim and the way he can look at you and know everything.

*

When Jason first sees her, he’s at some party that says it’s a fundraiser. The place is decked to the nines, all classy gold, renaissance architecture and girls in thousand dollar dresses.

Jason stakes out the buffet table and stubbornly refuses to move. Gather intel, Tim had said. Jason yanks his tie looser, half nods at the man who’s managing to have a mostly one sided conversation about investment options. He can gather intel. A good chunk of what they know now is from his way of gathering intel.

But this – the ritzy ball room, tailored clothing and the fake, fake smiles. It isn’t him. Not anymore, maybe never. Uncomfortable and nervous. Awkward in a way he hadn’t been when he was a little bird.

He doesn’t get much of a warning when suddenly, she’s there. Blue eyes, black dress. Brushing against his side as she leans around him. Doesn’t say anything but she smiles and it’s cute. More than a little mischievous as she nabs the last pastry he was reaching for before wandering off. He’s left staring.

Still a stupid, stupid little bird. He thinks. Turns back to the table and grabs another drink.

*

“So, who is she?” Jason asks the next day.

Tim looks up from his tablet and frowns. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah. Wait. I mean no, but it’s-“ Jason cuts himself off. “It’s ok, I guess, but-“ Everything he can think to say sounds insulting. Which wouldn’t matter, normally. It’s just Tim. The pretender. The wannabe.

Stupid little bird, can’t even ask for a name. He drops onto the couch. “Never mind.” Kicks his legs up onto the table. Doesn’t even want to think about it anymore. “What do we got?”

*

It’s by the park, he’s on his way to beer and dubious nutritional choices when he about makes a face plant into a corner. She’s walking across the street, and a group of guys are trailing her. Cat calls and wolf whistles. And he kind of wants to break their knee caps.

“Hey.” He says when he drops in beside her. She looks at him, quick and accessing, and then she smiles. It’s small and shy, but his breath catches and he grins back. Turns around till he’s staring at the closest douchbag. “Fuck off.”

There’s swearing and threats of bodily harm. But they scatter and she is looking at him again. Same eyes that read him like a book. “You know I could have handled it.”

“Yeah, but-“ He shrugs, puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “You shouldn’t have to. And I was here. And-” He stops. She doesn’t say anything and he’s beginning to feel a bit awkward. Or more awkward. He drags his hand up and through his hair. Finds he’s staring at his shoes when he finally manages to speak again. “So, uh. Do you want to grab a bite? Maybe, pizza?”

“Ah. Yeah. Ok.” He glances up and she’s smirking. Like it’s a game and she’s winning. Which is ok, Jason thinks, because he thinks he’s winning too.

The rain that’s been threatening to come down all day starts like a waterfall and they end up running the last hundred feet. They lean against each other, laughing, in the entrance to the restaurant when she tips her head up and offers. “It’s Alison, by the way.”

*

“Here.” Jason drops a box into Tim’s lap. They aren’t supposed to meet up with the others for another thirty minutes, but Jason had gotten there early hoping to catch him alone. “For you.”

Tim picks the box up curiously, flips it around, and then he’s grinning. Smile bright. Strong. Like a bolt of lightning that hits Jason in the chest with how giddy it makes him in return. It’s just a small little random upgrade for his hardware, but the way he’s looking at him…

Jason takes the seat beside him. Tim hums as he opens the box, not bothering to wait until he can actually use it.

“You want to patrol with me tonight?” Tim asks, suddenly. Jason nods. Tim smile gets a little crocked. “Twenty bucks says I can beat you down the mile.”

“You’re on, Red.”

*

Alison shoves him against the wall. Arms sliding around his neck and she’s there. Mouth and tongue. Teeth as she nips his lip.

“We-“ She starts, breathy words between fevered kisses. “-are going to get caught.”

“Ngh.” Jason groans. She’s laughing little puffs against his mouth, then his jaw, his neck as she drags down. The doorknob is digging into his hip but he can’t get himself to move. All he can feel is her. All he can see is her. All he can think.

She shifts, closer, and he freezes. The warm heavy weight against his thigh. It’s brief and he tries to forget. Tries to ignore it. Logically, he knew. He tells himself he knew. But- he didn’t. She(he) feels him stiffen. Feels him break and pulls back. He can’t even look her(him) in the face and, “Tim-” He’s chocking.

A pause, and, “Oh.” Alison(Tim) breathes, eyes wide.

Then she’s Alison again as she turns around. Walks away, back to the computers, fingers messing with the com till she’s talking to Oracle. On the job. Like nothing has happened.

“Oh.” Jason repeats to his shoes. Digs his fingers into his thigh.

You already died once, little bird. How many times do you have to fuck up?

*

Shit. Jason slams his door. “Fuck.” He snarls. Kicks an empty bottle across the room. It shatters against the kitchen counter.

Jason drops to the floor and bangs his head against the wall.

“Damn it.” He swears, for good measure. How the hell does he fix this?

*

Tim’s been avoiding him, and he gets it, but- yeah. He finds Tim laying across the couch in Bruce’s downtown apartment. The last place Jason would normally ever want to go to. Which is probably the point.

“Hey.” He starts. Tim is still frozen where he’s been peeling an orange. “I’m sorry.” He blurts out. Tim doesn’t even blink. Jason coughs. Rubs the back of his neck. Shit. What else does he say? He hadn’t even thought about what he’d do beyond ‘find Tim.’ And-

Yeah. Fuck it.

Jason takes the two quick steps across the room. Swoops down till he’s brushing his lips against Tim’s. Quick. Light. The taste of oranges lingers and when he pulls back Tim is staring at him. Wide eyed and shocked. But he doesn’t push him away. And, kind of stupidly, Jason finds himself grinning. Murmurs about shock and awe and does it again. A little slower. A little longer. Tim’s arm slipping around his neck and pulling till he falls over the couches’ arm.

“You idiot.” Tim laughs. Jason doesn’t disagree.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was going to have Jason never be interested in Tim (his male self) romantically, but I couldn't actually get myself to do that to Tim. Tim deserved someone who could love all of him. Transgender, as a topic, was a very awkward topic for me to cover. I'm not familiar with the individual struggles and I'm vaguely thinking I have no idea if what I wrote even works. I had a version of this on my computer for a year from Tim's POV and hated it because I didn't think I really understood it enough (and it had the disappointing ending)


End file.
